A day in the life on Babylon 5
by Ultraviolet Lemur
Summary: What can I say? Ivanova's yelling at people,Garibaldi's skulking around in a fedora, The vorlon are being cryptic, and the Rangers have taken over C&C for a party.
1. It started out as a normal day

_Disclaimer:I don't own Babylon 5, or any of the chrarcters. I don't own anything, i'm broke. So even if you try to sue me, You won't get anyhting out of it._

_Hi there! this is my first attempt at a B5 fic, and in fact my first attempt at a fanfic here! If it's too weird for you, blame my muses. Reviews are welcome, and i'd be happy for suggestions, or to put a reviewer or two in if they'd like. If you read this, please take a moment to review! I'd like to know what my readers think!_

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It started out as a normal day on Babylon 5. G'kar was in his quarters plotting on how to rip each and every hair on Londo Mollari's head out. Londo was sitting in his quarters plotting how to shove G'kar out an airlock. Morden was asking people questions with a vaguely suggestive connotation. Garibaldi was skulking around in a fedora. Ivanova was off somewhere dancing around a lumati. And the entire crew of C&C was kneeling on the floor chanting, "Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. And, if I ever do anything wrong, Ivanova will personally rip my lungs out." Or at least they were, until a shirtless John, with a giggling Delenn hanging on his arm, poked his head in and irately yelled at them to stop chanting and steer this damn thing!

Meanwhile in Down Below, Zach was having a very bad day. It had started when his alarm went off 5 hours before it was supposed to, waking him up at 2 A.M. Then, unable to get back to sleep, he went to have some breakfast, only to find that someone his favorite breakfast cereal had inexplicably been replaced with Flarn-O's. Sitting down to eat his first bowl, he had discovered that they tasted horrible. But that was okay, because at the sound of the Flarn-O's falling into the bowl, his door was broken down by twenty Minbari who ran off with the box, his bowl, any pieces of cereal that had fallen on the floor, and half the table. He'd finally decided to just ride up and down in the lift until he had to go to work, threw up, or both. On the twenty-seventh ride down, Lyta got on. 'Ah ha, finally some luck. I can put the moves on Lyta. Feisty redheads turn me on.' He thought.

"Hey Lyta, you wanna go back to my quarters? Forget Kosh, I'll show you what's inside _my _encounter suit." He said, leaning over to her. However, Lyta seemed about to reply when her eyes turned totally black. In a mechanical voice she said, "Can not. Must go make naughty love to Vorlon. Figure out what strange thing shaped like a teapot is for." Then she stepped off the lift.

When Zach's shift finally started, he almost jumped for joy. However, he later wished he had just got back into bed and spent the whole day there. The first thing he had to do was convince some strange cult that had just sprung up to stop disturbing the peace. Unfortunately, they were disturbing the peace by skipping around in bright pink robes, singing "ring around the rosy" and throwing pink confetti and candy hearts at everyone. With a growing headache, he went off to look for the Chief. He found Garibaldi yelling at people, as usual.

"Listen, when I say I need two hundred hamsters by Friday, I mean I need them by Friday! What do you think you're trying to pull here?" he yelled at a cowering shopkeeper.

"Chief?" he said, tapping Garibaldi on the shoulder.

"Huh?" said the shopkeeper. "He's not the Chief of Security, is he?" Garibaldi sighed and took off the fedora. The shopkeeper yelped, and immediately began to shove some things under his cart.

"What is it Zach?" asked Garibaldi, putting his fedora back on while the shopkeeper started wheeling his cart off so fast it left skid marks.

"Well, umm," said Zach feeling the urge to make sure someone else had just as bad a day as he did, "Talia Winters asked for you. She said for you to come to her quarters with a bottle of champagne, the sexiest lingerie you can find, and wearing a pair of tight leather pants. _Really_ tight leather pants." Said Zach, fighting the beginning of a malicious grin off his face. Garibaldi's eyes widened larger than he would have thought possible, then he ran off so fast his fedora was left behind. Zach put it on so that it overshadowed his eyes in a mysterious sort of way. He turned, promptly walked into a wall. He was found wandering around later, mildly concussed, and insisting he was "6 Slug Mahoney, P.I."


	2. Conga!

_I still down't own Babylon 5 or any of the chrarcters. I don't own a denn'bok, a disco ball or a pair of leather pants. In fact, i still don't own anything. I've been sleeping in a cardboard box for two weeks! Send help!_

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Enter Ivanova, stage right. She was walking back to her quarters after concluding another deal with the Lumati, once again managing to wheedle her way out of using the strange metal cup with the dangly things by dancing around them singing a strange song until their heads exploded. Well, not literally, but when she left they were rolling on the floor and in the process of being seriously confused. Suddenly someone streaked by her so fast that he left a cloud of dust behind him. Which was odd, because as B5 had spent 50,000 credits on the best cleaning and air recycling system available, there shouldn't have been a speck of dust anywhere. She stared at the retreating figure, who seemed to be carrying a box covered in tissue paper and a bottle….wait, was that Garibaldi? And WHAT was that he was wearing? Ivanova shuddered and went into her quarters, deciding some things were better left unknown. 

Ivanova changed direction and headed off to C&C. As far away from what she had just seen as possible. Unfortunately, things were a little dull in C&C. Everyone was busily at work doing important things, or maybe just pressing random buttons on their console, who can tell? But they were probably doing all the little things that need to be done to keep the space station from crashing into Epsilon, propelling it into the sun, causing a huge atomic supernova then creating a black hole and thus ending life as we know it. Probably. Maybe they were just playing Tetris. So anyway, where were we? Oh yes. Ivanova was bored. And what happens when she's bored? She goes around yelling at people of course! But, as Ivanova soon found out, when you're done yelling and everyone is cowering under their consoles, there isn't much left to do. So she amused herself for a while by shoving things out an air lock and shooting them, I mean testing the new defense grid! Suddenly Marcus dashed in. well, he tried to. First he banged against the door like a moth against a porch light, with a thud that startled Ivanova so much that she lost control of the giant laser cannon thingy and destroyed a ship. Luckily it was a Vorlon ship, so no one cared. The door finally opened, and Marcus staggered in, looking a little concussed.

"Commander, I have bad news! The jump gate has just opened, and fifty Psi Corp ships have come out! The captain needs all of you in the war room immediately!" he cried, gasping for breath.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" yelled Ivanova, happy to have found a new thing to yell about. "Clear the deck! Get to the war room, on the double!" Everyone cleared out, before Ivanova started ripping lungs out. Finally, everyone except Marcus, who had keeled over on the floor, was out. The doors shut behind them with a click. Ivanova paused suddenly. "Hey, wait a minute. _I'm_ the one who runs the jump gate, and I didn't see any Psi Corp ships. Marcus!" She turned, to go yell at Marcus some more, but, strangely enough, instead of opening automatically with that little whooshing sound, the door stayed resolutely shut. Marcus immediately made a miraculous recovery, leaping up from the floor.

"Okay guys, all clear!" he yelled. Suddenly rangers started streaming out from under the consoles, dropping down from the ceiling, panels in the walls, trapdoors under the floor, everywhere that a ranger could conceivably hide, and few that they couldn't but did anyway. It only took a few moments to pry them out with the denn'boks. "Sorry Susan!" called Marcus cheerfully through the door. "But we wanted to have a party, and this was the only place big enough! Plus it has that cool giant window so everyone can see us!" Then a disco ball came down from the ceiling, loud music started playing, and all the last defenders against the darkness began forming a conga line.


	3. Along came Mr Garibaldi

_Nope, still don't own anything. Not B5, or the characters, or C&C or the macarena. I don't even own my cardboard box anymore, some hobo came along and stole it._

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A few hours later all the crew of C&C had set up a temporary camp, and the rangers were still going at it. It had progressed from Karaoke, to spin the bottle, to strip poker, and finally to Truth or Dare.

"Okay Marcus, truth or dare?" came the inevitable question when it came Marcus's turn.

"Hmmm. Well, I'm in a daring mood today, and I haven't been able to take it out by hitting someone with my denn'bok, soooooo, dare!" was Marcus's reply.

"Okay Marcus. I dare you to………. Do the Macarena. Shirtless!" There was a sudden rush outside the door as Ivanova, all the female members of C&C, and a few random women who happened to be standing around wondering why the crew of C&C was all sitting outside instead of steering the ship or whatever it is that they do. Someone turned on the music, and Marcus took his dare. The assorted females stood drooling, while the men outside laughed their heads off. Quite a large crowd of ships, who had been waiting outside for someone to let them in, gathered by the huge conveniently placed window in C&C, and the assorted arriving aliens seemed quite disappointed when Marcus finished. However, when he had finished, Ivanova finally remembered that they needed to get the partying rangers out of C&C so they could get back in and resume doing nothing. So she sent one of the people hanging around to go find someone to kick the people out. And on the third try, she actually got someone from C&C.

Garibaldi too was having a bad day. When he'd got to Talia's quarters and greeted her with a loud "Hey there Sweetcheeks! Big Daddy's here!" and waved his presents next to the window, he'd woken up three hours later upside down in a cargo hold. Luckily he'd woken up with a pak'ma'ra staring down at him, and the combination of the breath, the face (described as an octopus that's been run over) and the knowledge that they eat _anything_ dead (the fork and salt shaker were a bit of a hint) had woken him up very quickly. And now one of the crew of C&C had found him as he was on his way back to his quarters, and was babbling about the rangers having a party in C&C. He tried to shake him off, but unfortunately the annoying person was clinging to him like a limpet. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Yelled Garibaldi.

"I I I, Well sir, Ivanova said, she n needs you to come down and get the Rangers out of C&C. T They're having a party sir." Stammered the frightened young man.

The Rangers have taken over C&C to have a party? This man was obviously drunk. Garibaldi steered him towards Medlab and shoved him in, then walked off, wishing he hadn't given up drinking. Once he had gotten rid of the annoying crewmember, garibaldi decided to go have some fun. And what constituted fun? Well, hitting on Talia was out, though he could probably lurk around in the elevator waiting for her to get on, but after that last incident it was probably a good idea to stay far away from her for a while. He could make prank calls over his link, but there were no refrigerators on the station. He decided to go hang out in the casino in the hopes that he could overturn some table and run off with the spilled chips. On the way however, he ran into an all to familiar face.

"Ahh, Mr. Garibaldi. Just the person I as hoping to run into. I have a question for you." Garibaldi turned to see Morden rapidly advancing on him. "Mr. Garibaldi, you're a busy man I can see. But I have one small question to ask, and then you can get on with your duties. What do you want?" Steamy images of him, Talia, and the fedora floated across his mind. Then he remembered he had forgotten his fedora long ago. Turning rapidly to go back and find his beloved hat, he nearly slammed into Morden, who had taken a smart step backwards. "Don't you have to go and get beheaded or something?" he snarled nastily before dashing off.


	4. The misadventures of Mister Morden

_Nope, still don't own B5, any of the characters. thanks Natters for the reviews! I'm glad you liked it! I'd be happy to put a couple of my reviewers in if they'd like, just give me a description. Please forgive the strangeness of this chapter, it was written at 11 P.M. under the influence of pringles, too much soda, and insane muses._

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"Beheaded?" said Morden with a little bit of anxiety. He turned and whacked the seemingly empty air beside him. However, a large black spider like creature flickered into view. It rubbed a large dent on its carapace roughly where the head would be. _You didn't have to do that._ It hissed reproachfully. "Oh yes I did. I'm gonna be beheaded? I wasn't consulted about this!" snapped Morden. _I don't remember that being in the script. Let me check….._ The shadow leafed through a large sheaf of papers awkwardly, attempting to hold and flip the pages of a script with no opposable thumbs or elbow, meaning it had to hold it out at legs length with two legs, which caused a the danger of falling flat on your face. However, he managed it. The shadow's eyes widened, as he hastily attempted to eat the script. However, due to the aforementioned awkwardness of the legs, and that even the shadows themselves are not quite sure where the mouths are, or even if they even have them, it was failing rather miserably. Morden grabbed for it, and the shadow twisted to keep it out of his grasp. Morden tried again, which resulted in a sort of strange ballet looking thing for a few minutes. Finally Morden pointed beyond the shadow, who turned to look, and snatched the script while he was occupied. Flipping rapidly through it with the advantage of thumbs, he soon came to the relevant part. "What the crap! I do get beheaded! Now that's just not fair! All I ever did was attempt to trap people in the shadow's web of lies, deceit and chaos! I'm an archeologist dammit! I need something to drink!" he stormed off, the Shadow following behind, wondering at this strange human tendency to feel the need to shove things down their orifices whenever they felt disgruntled. By the time the it arrived, Morden already had a number of empty glasses by him, was holding two more, and having them shoved at him by various species who were entertained by the drunken lecture he was treating them to. "I never wanted thish ya see? I jurst wan-ned to be an archeololologister, and dig up shtuff! But then it all happened all fast, and now I'm redushed to this." He waved a glass vaguely. "Being followed around by giant invishibbable shpiyderses who only want me to ask what you want. It getsh borering after a while, ya know what I mean?" he asked throwing his arm around a nearby narn in a friendly fashion. Aat this point his shadowy companion decided it was time for him to leave before he hurt himself. Because throwing your arm around a narn all of a sudden _is_ hurting yourself. Prodding him off the narn he shoved him the direction of the door, all while being patted vaguely and called "good ol' shpidrey". Suddenly the shadow stiffened. _Quick, hide!_ It shoved Morden into a doorway, just in time as a Vorlon walked by. It seemed to be doing some strange dance, no; it was trying to dislodge something from the headpiece of its encounter suit. Something bright pink, and…Morden's eyes widened. Surely it couldn't be? The shadow behind him sniggered. Apparently it was. _Stupid Vorlon._ It smirked. _With their stubby little arms. Serves them right, if they were to stupid to put arms in their encounter suits. They shouldn't be wearing them anyway, what are they, too good for us to see them?_ "But you don't show yourself either." Commented Morden. "You're invisible." _Well yes, but, it's different!_ snapped the shadow. "I've always wondered why you hated each other so much. " said Morden as he began to walk back to his quarters. _We were in rival frat houses at college. _Said the shadow. _One day the Vorlon held a wild party without inviting us. They invited all the chicks too. So we flooded their rooms with live spoo. Then they filled our rooms with carrion and shoved in 50 pak'ma'ra. And after that it just sort of….escalated. _"Oh. Well that's verrrrrrry……" Morden's sentence was caught up, due to the fact that all he had drunk caught up to him and collapsed. The shadow stood around awkwardly, then dragged him into his room, where, due to it's lack of knowledge of human sleeping habits, Morden woke up the next day to find he had spent the night in his sock drawer.


	5. In which Delenn eschews the popcorn

_Once again. please forgive this chapter. It was written at midnight under the influence of coffee and curry noodles.I still don't own Babylon 5, Delenn, any of the characters, or a mind control machine. But I wish i did._

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Enter Delenn, stage right. The Minbari-human was sitting in her corridors, carefully arranging a stack of crystal triangles so they formed a larger triangle to represent the union of all the triangular thingys in the universe or something ridiculous like that. Knowing the Minbari it was probably some strange, obscure ritual with a deep inner meaning for them and significance just above dryer lint to the rest of the galaxy. She stood up, slowly backing away to keep the structure from falling over. She smiled as it stayed upright. Then……. "Delenn!" Lennier slammed the door open, bursting into the room. As Delenn wondered how he could slam an automatic door, the crystal tower teetered for a moment. Lennier froze. The universe held it's breath. With a slow motion 'uh oh' the tower leaned left, then right, then oh so sloooooowly toppled over sending crystals bouncing left and right. Delenn looked up from her cover under a table.

"Yes Lennier?" she said in a slightly strained voice, signifying either suppressed anger or constipation. "What is it that you were so eager to say, that you somehow committed an act totally against the laws of causality? That I will probably have to conduct a long meaningless ritual later to fix?"

"The Rangers are having a party in C&C!" said Lennier excitedly. "You have to come! And bring John! We need everyone who's been Entil Zha so far, well, except for Sinclair because he's on Minbar. But you've gotta come! We've got Flarn!"

Delenn looked up. "Flarn? Forget this!" She dashed out the door, on the way to C&C. When she got there, she found her way blocked by a large group of C&C operatives. A few tents had sprung up, as had a traveling movie festival, a slot machine, and a soup kitchen that seemed to think they were homeless people. Delenn wove her way through the chaos. Somehow, she picked up a hanger on, who on closer inspection proved to be a very frazzled Ivanova.

"Delenn! Thank goodness you're here, the Rangers have gone mad and taken over C&C, there's no one steering the ship, and the Command Staff are having a strip poker tournament! We need your help!" Ivanova was wide eyed and frantic, possibly at the sight of too many Spiderman underpants on the people she commanded to be comfortable.

"Umm, yes, I was just going there right now." Said Delenn; cursing the fact that Minbari could not lie. "I'll be sure to talk to them." Shaking off Ivanova she ducked around a popcorn maker and to the door. She knocked on it. A face appeared at the window.

"Delenn!" cried Marcus happily. "Come in, quickly. They've tried to get in with a battering ram twice. Look, we've got popcorn! And those little handheld Tetris games!" He quickly opened the door and yanked Delenn in. She looked around. Every single person in the room, whether sitting on a chair, sprawled across the floor, or, due to lack of space, clinging to a ceiling fan, was bent over a small plastic orange game that was making little beeping noises. Occasionally, it would say in an overly cheerful electronic voice "High Score!" or "Game Over!" to accompanied cheers or moans. Marcus held out a large bag of popcorn. Delenn stared at it suspiciously. The human seemed to enjoy these exploded grains of corn covered with liquid bovine lactation and crystals of sodium, but she had not had good experiences with them. _Flashback! "Ahhh! Ahhh! Get it off me!" yelled Delenn, running around the room, piles of flaming popcorn clinging to her. "Help! Lennier!" Polka ms played in the background. Then came the butter. Oh not the butter! I refuse to talk about the butter! I'm just going to end this thing right now. _Delenn shuddered and refused the popcorn. Marcus shrugged and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, greatly resembling an overstuffed chipmunk. "Wew, soot yerchef" (translation: well, suit yourself). Marcus plopped into a chair and began busily playing his game some more. Delenn poked around at some people, getting mildly snarled at for interrupting them.

"Hmm. This is very curious. Apparently the beeping device has captured their minds and is draining them for some sinister purpose. I could heroically do something about it and save the day. Or I could hack into the C&C hard drive, program it to send subliminal mind control messages to the machines, and take over Babylon 5 with my army of zombie ranger slaves. But, if I also program it to send a telepathic mind control signal, I can take over the telepaths as well, and then they can take over the rest of the people for me. And once I have control of Babylon 5 and all the people aboard it, I shall sell off the ranger to fan girls thus raising enough money to bribe all the earth officials to resign in favor of me, thus gaining control over all of earth."

John randomly poked his head in. "Wow Delenn, that sure is uncharacteristically devious."

Delenn shrugged. "When you spend that long a time in a cocoon, you get lots of ideas. And, with the help of John, she became supreme ruleress (oh, and John was sort of co-ruler type thing, even though he was already in charge, so basically he got mildly demoted).

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_Ranger auction next! Who wants one? They're cute and cuddly and they come with their own extendable fighting pikes!_


	6. The vorlon is a playa!

No, babylon 5 is still not mine. You may notice that there seem to be a lot of drunk people here. Why? Because drunk people are funny.

Londo Mollari walked through the zocalo, heading, as always, towards the bar. However, he was blocked by a large group of people clustered around the doors to C&C. He wandered towards the center of it, in the hopes that something interesting, perhaps involving free liqueur, was going on there. However he lost interest when he found out that it was just a group of those crazy people from C&C, whining about something or other.

"Bah." he muttered. "Insane, all of them. It must be all that staring out windows at nothing all day. It's enough to drive anyone mad. Don't spend enough time enjoying themselves." He shoved his way out of the crowd, bumping into a vorlon. He stared up at it, or at least into the tubes that he assumed were near its face.

"The hour of the fish squeaks at noon." it intoned in it's deep resonant voice.

"Bah. All this foolidh cryptic talk is the result of a deprived mind. _You_ don't spend enough time enjoying yourself either." scoffed Mollari. An idea struck him. "Come with me. I will buy you a drink, you will have a good time, yes?"

"Can articulated mollusks fly a map?" asked the vorlon, sounding slightly uncertain.

"What? Umm, yes. Excellent!" said Mollari, steering the vorlon towards a bar. Two hours later, Mollari had found the vorlon to be a most amusing drinking companion. He drank a lot, the cups disappeared along with the drink, and he ran up quite a bill. But none of that mattered, because the vorlon rude drinking songs were _amazing._

"Scallop a miffed bag and wobble a moose, the virile red kumquat can flibble a goose." the vorlon, sang? Hummed? Ululated? Whatever sound it was, it was like nothing Mollari had ever heard before.

"That's it my friend! I told you you just needed to loosen up!" said A rather drunk Mollari, slapping the vorlon in the general area of it's back and joining in the verse that went "So wobbling bullfrogs must candle a fig!" "But now," he roared, in the voice signifying he was _really_ drunk and about to do something very expensive, "We must finish this night as it should be finished! We must find ourselves a few women yes?"

"Waffle crystals?" asked the vorlon uncertainly, sounding as drunk as a synthesized voice can.

"Bah!" snapped Mollari. "If we are going to do this, you must talk like a normal person! Come on, it's not that hard, go on!" The vorlon paused, then said, sounding rather unsure

"We will...seek out...creatures of the female persuasion?"

"Yes!" bellowed Mollari, so loudly that several nearby Kiy'R!antes, a species that lived on a planet with about twenty times the gravity of earth, resulting an average weight of roughly two ounces each, were blown away. According to the laws of general humor they were blown into the nearby Fresh Aire restaurant, resulting in a rendition of the time honored classic, "Waiter, there's a fly in my soup!" But anyway, back to vorlon and the centauri.

"That is exactly what we shall do my friend! But, I guessing that you have never picked up women before yes? I will show you exactly how to do it!" He walked over to a shapely blond a few stools away. "Well hello there baby. Are you wearing reflective clothing? Because I can see myself in your pants." The woman slapped him and stomped off. The disgruntled Mollari came back to his stool and had another drinks.

"This is the way to acquire female companionship?" asked the vorlon.

"Well, not exactly." conceded Mollari.

"I will attempt this exercise." said the vorlon gliding over to a group of women.

"Oh, this will be good." chortled Mollari following him.

The vorlon paused in front of their table, and made a sound remarkably like someone clearing their throat.

"Greetings assorted females. Would you like to engage in intercourse with me?" The women stared at the vorlon for a moment.

"Sure!" said one of them.

"No way Jen, I saw him first!" interrupted one.

"No, I'm pretty sure he was talking to me." said another one,

"Please ladies. There is plenty of smoking hot vorlon for all." said the vorlon. Mollari watched in shock as his companion left with a bunch of giggling women on either side.


End file.
